“Maybe we were in the way.”
She shifted the pack weight over her shoulder. “There’s a chance we’ll be blocked again?”
“No. I don’t think there will be anyone inside the dome. They didn’t leave their village. The Wanderers wouldn’t chance it.” Dirk stared at the Case and touched the sixth Token. “It was thirty-six years ago that your dad and I were here, terrified of what we’d learn once we activated it. We were so apprehensive about the Bridge being detected by the Believers, we did so many things wrong. I hope we’re not reliving history.”
“We aren’t. Tripp will keep it safe, and he’ll return for us,” Veronica told him softly.
“If something happens to Tripp and the Case, we’re stuck. You know that, don’t you?” Dirk’s eyes were unnerved.
“It’s a risk we have to accept. I wish that whoever left the Tokens had given a way to return.” I glanced at Tripp and nodded to him before moving into position. The Case was in place, and all I had to do was snap the final Token in.
“What did you say?” Dirk asked.
“The Case. Having it remain behind is a giant flaw.”
Dirk smiled despite the circumstances. “That’s it. They never wanted us to go home again. These beings gave us the Tokens for a one-way trip.”
“We’ll talk about it later.” I pushed the last Token all the way in, and it made an audible click. Blue light swept through the cavern, wind swirling all around us. Veronica’s hair flew wildly as we gawked upward.
My skin stretched, my eyes feeling the pressure building in the room. For a moment, I thought I’d be torn to shreds, but it stopped.
One minute we were on Earth. The next, we were gone.
It was dark, the light dissipated.
“Don’t worry.” Dirk’s voice was reassuring, and a few moments later, a stone door opened, directing to the exit. Beyond it was a corridor, like he’d said there would be. “The nausea will pass soon.”
I clutched my stomach as my legs tried giving out. Sweat rushed from my pores, and Veronica looked worse than I felt. Her cheeks were flushed, and she stepped to the side, throwing up.
“Give it a minute. We traveled a far distance,” Dirk told us.
“Is this Rimia?” Veronica took a swig of her water, rinsing her mouth.
“This is Rimia.” Dirk took the lead, walking cautiously in the dark, but his strides were poised, like he knew the area well.
We emerged from the hall, finding stairs that guided us down. I used the wall to balance myself and was already feeling better. Veronica stared at everything and managed to grin at me. It was clear she was over her bout of sickness. Soon we entered the great glass dome, and I marveled at the architecture. Alien symbols were carved into the four black pillars, and I asked my dad what they meant.
“Trust. Faith. Life. Death.” He didn’t elaborate.
It looked like the sun was either about to set or just rising, and I peered through the huge dome at the twin moons low in the horizon. Viewing the ruins of the city was overwhelming. It was all real. “This can’t be happening,” I whispered.
“Did you not listen to my descriptions?” Dirk asked.
“No. I believed you, it’s… we’re on another planet.” I glanced at Veronica, who seemed to be much more at peace with our new reality than I was. My gut was tight, my chest anxious.
My gaze drifted around the room, where bunks and tattered supplies were spread out. A junky fishing rod. A blanket made of woven plant leaves, a fur vest. “You lived here.”
“At the end. Waiting for you.” Dirk smiled, but I could sense the pain he was reliving.
“Which one was his?” Veronica asked, kneeling near the beds.
Dirk indicated the second pile. “Here. He became quite proficient at fishing. Guess if you practice anything, you can be good at it after a while.”
She touched the blanket, and we gave her a minute.
“The sun will be up soon, and we don’t have much time,” Dirk said. “If I’d have realized the time shift between here and home, I would —”
“What could be done?” I asked.
“Good point. Let’s focus on the here and now.” Dirk led us to the exit, and I took in the view. Structures were toppled over everywhere; the great city that had once stood here had been devastated by an unknown force.
I’d heard his description of it, but nothing did it justice. Veronica walked past us, dropping her pack to the ground outside the dome. She sniffled and faced me, tears threatening to break through the dam. “Is this what they’ll do to Earth?”
“That’s what we assume,” Dirk said. He put a fatherly arm over her shoulder and stared at the city. “I’ve explored so much but understand so little.”
“Where’s the village?” My question made him flinch, but he pointed to the body of water that was becoming visible in the growing light of the morning.
“There.”
“We have to go to them first,” I said.
Veronica wiped at her eyes. “Wait. That wasn’t the plan. Let’s not dawdle.”
“It won’t take long,” Dirk told her. “We have a lot of sunlight.”
I took a deep breath, finding the air thin but comfortable. My steps were different, gravity slightly lower than I was used to. It smelled odd too. It jarred loose a memory of being a kid, breaking rocks open with Beverly at the quarry. It was a couple of miles out of town, and the older teens went there to drink and smoke stinky weed on Friday nights. The younger kids went after school, before their parents got home from work.
Beverly had brought me along with two friends, complaining that I was too slow on my bicycle and that I was ruining their fun. I must have been nine at the time. We headed to the quarry, and I was underwhelmed. The way she’d explained it, I’d expected an extravagant cave system with giant amethysts lining the entrance. This was nothing but a bunch of bland rocks.
One of the girls pulled a hammer from her backpack and showed me how to crack them. I spent a couple of hours sweating and bashing rocks with the tool. Now, as I recalled it, I was sure they’d only brought me to avoid hurting themselves, risking my health instead. A few of the geodes split open, revealing sparkling insides, and the girls gathered them up like prizes.
By the end of the day, I was covered in scrapes and a thick layer of dust. That was the same smell clinging to my nostrils as we walked into the city. Mom had given Bev crap and grounded her for bringing me to the quarry instead of making me do homework.
I was curious to meet Opor and the other Wanderers. How would they react to finding two more humans with Dirk, or to the news that Clayton was dead? I couldn’t trust them, not after they’d banished our parents from their village for breaking a simple rule. Opor’s views and customs had separated the two of them, leaving Dirk alone once more.
We found a gigantic gorge cut into the ground, but it didn’t dissuade Dad. He traversed down the edge, making it appear simple. We trudged behind him and ascended makeshift steps on the other end. It was difficult to keep focus when every part of the city drew my eye. I recognized what would have once been streets, assuming that the stone markings were signs of some variety.
“This is astonishing.” Veronica took a photo of the city with her cell phone. I’d considered recording our experience, but speed was imperative.
Like Dirk had suggested, it was getting warmer, and I removed my thin jacket, shoving it into my backpack. I was beginning to sweat, and my boots were covered in dirt from the hike. I brushed my pants off as we took a quick pause and asked where we could find a water source.
“Follow me,” Dirk claimed. He led us a block to the right and another two forward, stopping at the edge of a collapsed building. A big cement cistern lay among the rubble. “We have nine of these around the city, set upright to collect rainwater. It’s a dry place, but when it rains, it pours. Washes out some of the roadways.” He took an empty bottle from his pack, dipping it into the stagnant water.
I spied a couple of insects inside,
swimming lazily on the surface. “Is it safe to drink?”
“Kept me alive for a few years.” He drank greedily, refilled it, and passed it to Veronica. She did the same, and I tasted it, finding the water tinged with sweetness. It was warm but refreshing. We filled all three bottles we carried, and sealed them up.
“How far to the village?” Veronica took her sweater off, and I swatted a bug landing on her bare shoulders. It was similar to a mosquito.
Dirk slapped at an insect on his arm. “We’re close.”
“Anything harmful?” I asked.
“There are predators, but we rarely encountered anything. The bugs inflict no disease we were aware of.” Dirk started off, and it got me thinking. What if Clayton’s mental state had been altered by an insect bite? Delirium as a result of an infectious parasite. I’d seen a man covered in bites think he was on fire in the Congo. He’d almost drowned trying to put himself out.
“Dirk, any idea how many years since this place was devastated?” Veronica asked.
“It’s impossible to tell, but from the wear, Clayton estimated thousands of years.” We were nearing the edge of the buildings, and I noticed the highest ones remained vertical.
“Is it safe to enter?” I was curious to see how these people had lived.
“We’ve been inside, but they’re dangerous. Most of the supporting systems have crumbled or worn away. There’s very little to see. Almost as if someone returned after the assault and deleted their lives from history.”
“That’s a lot of work, wouldn’t you say?” I asked.
“That’s what I’ve always thought, but we aren’t even sure who lived here. The Wanderers think of themselves as guards to the Bridge, but they’re afraid to leave their village. Like I said, they’ve lost more with the passing of each generation.” Dirk slowed, stopping as the street gave way to a line of forest. “The village is beyond, but be cautious. They don’t like outsiders and have no use for me after I disobeyed them.”
Veronica reached for her gun. “Do we need to be worried?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. Let me talk to them before we begin shooting.” Dirk entered first, asking that we stay ten yards or so behind him.
I kept expecting to be ambushed, but nothing happened. Dirk approached with caution, and I heard him mumbling in the alien language as we exited the forest. The village was startling. The huts were crude, resembling primitive dwellings on Earth. There was no machinery, but the round buildings were made with care and quality. Thatched roofs covered mortared stone walls. We walked past gardens of flowers and types of vegetables, maybe herbs.
I stopped and smelled an orange bloom, motioning Veronica over to sample the scent. It was quiet, with the exception of chirping insects and squawking birds in the sky. I spotted a creature scurrying on a thin tree, a dark brown lizard with six legs.
We still hadn’t seen anyone. “Where are they?”
“This isn’t right.” Dirk ran, jogging down the trail between the homes. The lake spread out far and wide in the distance, the sunlight glinting off the slow waves. We chased after my dad, my instincts telling me something was wrong.
Then I saw the bodies.
Dirk must have too, because he staggered forward, letting his pack fall to the dirt. The largest structure in the village was ahead, and I assumed this was the town hall he’d mentioned. Five people lay between us and the doors.
I went after Dirk, who was calling out for Opor. The first person was an older woman, her skin chestnut brown, her hair gray and curly. She wore a leather vest and matching pants, with darker oiled shoes.
Insects clawed ruthlessly across her skin, and I waved at them. I wasn’t an expert, but I guessed she’d only been there for a couple of days. Her eyes were red, the capillaries burst, just like Clayton’s had been.
“They’re all dead.” Dirk rolled a man over, and a racking sob emerged from his lips. “These were my friends.”
“Until they banished you,” Veronica muttered. I glared at her, but she shrugged me off. “Face it. They did nothing to help your dad or mine after they went to the mountains. They didn’t even know what they were doing here, living by vague memories and traditions passed on by other vague generations. They should have thought for themselves. Their death is the price you pay for complacency.”
“Dad, what if this is an illness? Clayton had it. These people. You said they weren’t procreating, dying off faster than they repopulated. This has happened hundreds of times over the course of humanity. I’m sure you know it better than I do,” I told him, but he wasn’t buying it.
“No. This is the Unknowns, trying to stop us. This is my fault,” he continued on. “Opor!”
I realized I’d touched the woman’s arm, and I wiped my fingers on the ground. I pulled my jacket out, ready to cut the sleeves off to use as a makeshift mask. “Let’s shield our faces.”
“I believe Dirk,” Veronica said. “This is no disease.”
We found more inside the town hall, and I stayed with Veronica as we watched my father descend the steps into the theater-style setting. There was space for a few hundred, and I thought back to my dad’s stories of the spirit walking.
There were dozens more bodies here, and my dad settled near the center of the room, picking up a wooden bowl. He tilted it, draining liquid from inside. “They did another ritual. It was too soon. They were growing desperate for answers. I was just here, a few days ago for them. It was already dire.”
“Where’s Opor?” I asked.
“I don’t see her.”
The entire village was dead. There were children on their backs, each of them with the same red burst veins in their eyes.
Veronica walked down the steps. “This ritual. It connects them to their ancestors?”
“That’s what they were taught, but it appears that the Unknowns were invading their minds. They wanted to stop the Wanderers. If anyone actually came with the seventh Token, there would be no one here to guide them to the mountains.”
“This is terrible,” I said, not wanting to look at their corpses any longer.
“They were called Wanderers, but lived and died in the same place,” Veronica added.
Dirk’s dark eyes met my gaze. “I’ve said the same.”
“To wander is to travel, to migrate. They only knew this village. They weren’t meant to be locked in here,” I whispered.
Veronica sat beside a dead girl and fixed her messy hair, draping a hand over the child’s eyes. “Maybe they weren’t physical wanderers. Maybe their title came from their ability to travel through dreams.”
My heart sped up, my skin growing flushed. “That’s it. Dad, you mentioned dream walking. You were able to link to me from all the way on Rimia. The Unknowns connected to these people because of their dream-linking ability. They didn’t know what they were doing. The Unknowns used this to their benefit, and finally killed them. Maybe they were checking in during each ritual, spying on Rimia to ensure no one had managed to locate the beings across the second Bridge.”
“That’s a solid theory.” Dirk’s voice cracked as his stare drifted around the room. “They thought seeking their ancestors out would help, but it killed them instead. I have to find Opor.”
He moved faster, turning over bodies, but she was nowhere to be found. We searched the rest of the village, but it was evident. Their people were gone. Rimia was defenseless.
“She must have fled somewhere,” Dirk said finally. The sun was higher now that we’d spent several hours here.
“Dad, we have to leave.”
He looked ready to collapse, but he agreed.
Clouds rolled in from over the lake, dark and angry beasts searching for a fight. The first rain hit my forehead long after we’d departed the village, and an hour later, we were seeking shelter in the forest. Dirk pulled a folded tarp from his pack, and we bungeed it to the thickest tree we could find, shoving sticks through the grommets at the corners. We sat in a tight square, letting the deluge run off
the tarp. We used a second tarp to sit on, mostly keeping our pants from being soaked.
“Have something to eat, Dirk.” Veronica passed him a protein bar. He unwrapped it with bleary eyes.
“Do you know how tough it is to go without normal food for eight years?” His question came as a shock.
“I can’t imagine. If I go two weeks without pasta, I get testy.” Veronica smiled at him.
“It was burgers for me. I could eat a bacon cheeseburger every day if possible. Or burritos.” He took a bite of the bar, and I dug into my own.
“Then it’s a good thing you stopped eating that junk. Not that Mom would have let you if you were at home.” The moment I said it, I wished I hadn’t.
But Dirk took it with grace. “Your mother was a great cook, wasn’t she?”
He could hardly remember, despite it only been eight years for him. “She actually got better, until the last few years. You should have seen the holidays when I was thirty. Fred and Beverly had just gotten married, and I brought a girl… what was her name?” It was funny that I couldn’t remember her. I saw a face, but… “Nancy. That’s right. A curator assistant from the Museum of Science.”
Veronica bit into her bar. “Were you serious?”
“Not even close. Actually, Richard set us up. He was always pushing me in five directions, trying to get me to choose one of them, even when women were involved.”
“Richard was quite forceful, but he was a hell of a friend,” Dirk said softly.
Rain battered the tarp, lightning flashed, and it grew darker inside our shoddy lean-to. I lifted the bottle of water. “To Richard Klein, and all the rest of our friends we’ve lost along the way.”
We each took a drink of water and sat solemnly for a moment. The list of losses was ever growing.
“I’m sorry to hear that Richard is gone. And your mother, more than anything. I wish I could have seen her one last time. To hold her hands and tell her the truth. I loved her very much, Rex.”
Hearing the passion in his voice shouting for Opor earlier reminded me he was in love with someone else too. “I know, Dad. She loved you as well.” In her own way.
Lost Time (The Bridge Sequence Book Two) Page 26
